


Trust In Me

by orpheous87



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 16:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17005095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/pseuds/orpheous87
Summary: Title: Trust In MeAuthor/Artist: Orpheous87 (Team Nimbus 2000)Rating: 15Board Position(or card image): The Forbidden ForestPrompt: "I can feel it in the air tonight." - Pick either: 1) Magical Creatures OR2) DetentionOR 3) The Return of Something Dark - Minimum: 184 Maximum: 841Word Count: 2076 - Get Out Of Detention card used!Summary: Harry's detentions with Umbridge get out of hand but luckily for him, someone is on hand to help.





	Trust In Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, this prompt ran away with me! Word count went out the window, but I think (hope) it was worth it.

Harry left Professor Umbridge’s office as quickly as he could without looking back. He was fighting to keep his breath from coming out in ragged gasps as he knew it would if he allowed it. He ignored the steady drip of blood down his wrist as his hand refused to heal. He focused on getting as far away from Umbridge’s office as he could before he finally allowed himself to slump against the wall, wrapping a bandage around his injured hand. He pressed his forehead to the cool stone of the castle wall, squeezing his eyes shut. His scar was throbbing more than it had done in a long while and he’d kept seeing flashes of the long corridor while he was in detention which he knew wasn’t a good thing. 

Breathing heavily now, he could hear footsteps approaching but didn’t have the energy to move. He could only hope it wasn’t Filch. Or Snape. 

“Who’s there?”

Harry sighed, his chest heaving. Malfoy on his prefect rounds. He wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than Filch finding him. 

“Potter? Shouldn’t you be in your common room by now?” Malfoy asked with a sneer, moving closer. 

Harry said nothing, still trying to calm his breathing down. His eyes still squeezed shut as his head throbbed. 

Malfoy frowned. “Potter?” It wasn’t like Potter to ignore him, he thought as he reached the boy’s side. “Are you alright?” he asked, unable to help himself. Something wasn’t right. Potter never allowed himself to look vulnerable like this. 

Harry shook his head slightly, not trusting his voice. 

“Potter, answer me,” Malfoy said, frowning at the other boy. “What are you doing here? You should be in…”

Malfoy broke off as Filch came round the corner. 

“Students out of bed! I’ll report you, I will!” 

“I’m a prefect,” Malfoy snapped. “I’m allowed to be out of bed, and I’m dealing with this, Filch. No need for you to worry.”

“Professor Umbridge has given me permission to punish students found in the corridors after hours,” Filch replied nastily. “A few lashes with a whip should sort this.”

“No!” Malfoy answered firmly, his voice louder but not yet a shout. Harry said nothing, somehow trusting Malfoy to get rid of Filch. Umbridge would love to see him like this, he was sure. “I’m taking points and escorting this student back to his common room. There is no need for you to concern yourself. Anyway, Peeves is in the Great Hall, you should probably go and find out what he’s doing.”

Filch gave a cry of outrage and hurried off in the opposite direction. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t even care that Malfoy was going to take points, he was just glad Filch had left them to it. “How many?” he managed to ask, his voice shaking. 

“What?” Malfoy asked, spinning round to look at Harry again. 

“How many points are you taking?” Harry asked, opening his eyes. 

“None,” Malfoy replied. “I had to get rid of him somehow. I don’t know what’s going on here, Potter but I don’t think even I can justify taking points from you right now. Something’s wrong… I can feel it in the air.”

Harry blinked in surprise, then winced as his head throbbed again. “I… this… this is what’s going on,” he said, lifting his right hand shakily. Even in the dim light of the corridor, he could see that the bandage was stained bright red. “This is what Professor-fucking-Umbridge is doing.”

Malfoy let out a hiss of surprise. “Fuck, what the… what has she done to you?” he asked, stepping forward involuntarily. 

“Lines… written in my own blood,” Harry said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes again. “I was there every night last week. I’ve been there the last two nights and I’m supposed… supposed to be there for the rest of the week. I can’t… tonight was the worst… the worst it’s been.”

Malfoy frowned again, torn between wanting to help and not wanting Harry to get annoyed at him for attempting to help. 

“My head… my _scar_ is killing me,” Harry continued, finding it easier to keep going now that he was talking. He’d kept everything hidden from Ron and Hermione so far, not wanting to show weakness, but he was finally ready to admit he couldn’t cope much longer. “I don’t think… I _can’t_ handle this for another three days.”

Malfoy threw caution to the wind and gently took hold of Harry’s injured hand, flinching at both the sodden bandage and the audible hiss of pain that came from Harry. “Sorry… I can heal this, I think,” he said, daring to look at Harry though he needn’t have worried. Harry’s eyes were closed again and he was breathing heavily. He took Harry’s silence as consent and drew out his wand. He murmured a soft litany of healing spells before daring to peel off the bandage. Sighing in relief, he realised that the bleeding seemed to have stopped. 

Harry’s breathing slowed back to a more normal rate and he opened his eyes to gaze down at Malfoy’s hands which were still holding his injured one. “How did you know how to do that?” he asked gratefully. His hand was still sore, but the pain was much more bearable now that the bleeding had stopped. 

Malfoy shrugged. “It’s something I learned when I was younger,” he said, not wanting to elaborate. “Do Granger and Weasley know about this?”

Harry shook his head, wincing again as it throbbed once more. “No,” he said. “They’d be horrified.”

“Does _anyone_ know about this?” Malfoy asked suspiciously. He knew what Harry was like. 

“You know,” Harry said softly, eyes closing once more as he tried to stop the throbbing in his head, he was seeing flashes of the corridor again.

“Merlin, Potter,” Malfoy sighed. “Of all people to confide in, you’ve chosen me? Why?” 

“You’re here,” Harry replied simply. “I know you’re doing rounds, I don’t want to keep you.”

Malfoy shook his head. “Fuck rounds. I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “What’s going on with your head? Is it still hurting?”

Harry nodded briefly, resting his forehead against the wall again. “It hurts a lot,” he admitted. “It has done ever since Voldemort came back,” he continued, not seeing Malfoy’s flinch at the use of the name. “But this… it’s unbearable. I’m supposed to… I’m not having remedial Potions lessons.”

Malfoy blinked, not sure what Harry was talking about for a moment. “You’re not?”

Harry snorted softly. “No,” he said. “I’m not supposed to say what I’m doing, but it’s not working. The pain, and the visions, are getting worse. I can’t… I can’t clear my mind.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened as he realised what Harry meant. “Occlumency,” he breathed. 

Harry just nodded, scraping his cheek against the wall slightly. 

“Clearing your mind is important,” Malfoy said softly. “It won’t work otherwise.”

“I know,” Harry moaned. “But it’s impossible. I can’t… do it.”

“You can,” Malfoy said. “If I can, you can.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open and he looked straight at Malfoy. “You can do it?”

Malfoy nodded. “I’ve been able to for a few years now. It’s… necessary sometimes.”

“Teach me,” Harry said, wincing again as his scar gave a particularly vicious throb. “Please.”

“Snape… he’s teaching you isn’t he?” Malfoy asked uncertainly. 

“He’s trying,” Harry said. “But it’s not… he doesn’t…” he broke off, frustrated that he couldn’t explain why it wasn’t working. “We clash too much.”

“And you and I don’t?” Malfoy snorted. “What makes you think I can teach you if he can’t?”

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed, blinking softly. “But you… you’re different.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Why haven’t you left me here? Why haven’t you taken points?” Harry asked, feeling his strength returning slightly, his breathing finally feeling easier though his head was still hurting.

Malfoy blinked again. “I…”

“Please Draco,” Harry whispered. “Please.”

Malfoy felt something clench in his chest at Harry’s words and he swallowed. “Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll teach you. Somehow.”

Harry smiled, pressing his forehead to the wall once more, enjoying the cooling feeling that the stone provided. 

“Come on,” Malfoy sighed, slipping his arm around Harry’s waist and pulling Harry’s left arm around his shoulders. “I’ll get you back to your common room.”

Harry leant against Malfoy heavily. He felt like he could walk again, but he appreciated the gesture. He couldn’t wait to collapse onto his bed, hoping he’d be able to get some sleep. 

“What time is your detention tomorrow?” Malfoy asked as they made their way slowly toward Gryffindor tower. 

“Same as tonight,” Harry said, grimacing. 

“If you can get away from Granger and Weasley, meet me beforehand. We’ll start Occlumency,” Malfoy said as they turned a corner. “Half an hour at a time will be enough.”

Harry nodded gratefully. “Ok. Meet where?”

“Somewhere that’s not suspicious,” Malfoy muttered. “Prefect’s bathroom. No-one will bother us in there.”

“And you think that’s not suspicious?” Harry asked faintly. 

“It’s less suspicious than meeting in the library isn’t it?” Malfoy pointed out, grabbing a handful of Harry’s robes to help keep him upright. 

“I suppose so,” Harry nodded, stumbling slightly and feeling grateful for Malfoy’s strong grip on his waist. He turned to look at the other boy, blinking. “Thank you,” he added softly. 

“Don’t mention it,” Malfoy muttered, feeling his cheeks turn pink. He knew that this went against everything he’d ever believed up to this point, but seeing _Harry Potter_ so beaten had shaken him. This was something different and he wasn’t sure he liked it. For all the bravado he’d put on earlier in the year, even he could admit that Umbridge was not good for the school and if he could help Harry even a little bit, then he knew he had to do it. 

Malfoy left Harry at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, watching from the corner to make sure he got through the portrait hole okay. He knew that Harry wouldn’t breathe a word of what had just happened to Granger and Weasley, but he realised it wouldn’t bother him even if he did. He didn’t think Harry should be trying to deal with everything on his own, but it was no doubt a waste of time telling him that. 

The next afternoon, Harry met Malfoy at the entrance to the prefect’s bathroom as planned and Malfoy was relieved to see that he looked more like his normal self although he noted that he still seemed to be favouring his right hand. 

Malfoy gave the password for the bathroom as Harry reached him and they went straight inside so as not to risk being spotted together. Inside, they barely spoke about anything other than Occlumency and Harry found it much easier to work with Malfoy than he did with Snape. Malfoy, he realised, was quite a patient teacher and wasn’t so quick to get annoyed with him when he couldn’t clear his mind. By the end of the half hour, he felt like he’d actually made some progress and couldn’t help but smile at Malfoy who, in turn, couldn’t help smiling back. 

Unfortunately for Harry, his smile didn’t last long as he made his way to Umbridge’s office to begin his detention. He didn’t know how long he spent writing lines but it was no surprise that, once again, blood streamed steadily from his hand as he left the office. It wasn’t as bad as the previous night, but nevertheless, it _was_ a surprise when he rounded a corner and found Malfoy lounging against the wall. 

Malfoy pushed away from the wall as he saw Harry, his eyes dropping immediately to Harry’s right hand. 

“Malfoy… you’re not going to take those points from me tonight are you?” Harry asked warily. 

Malfoy didn’t say a word as Harry reached him, he simply took the Gryffindor’s hand gently and murmured the same healing spells that he’d used the night before. Harry felt his breath hitch at the gentle touch, watching as the bleeding stopped. 

“Thank you,” Harry whispered after a moment, lifting his gaze again. He was startled to see Malfoy looking right back at him. 

“I’ll be here to do that after every detention,” Malfoy replied softly. “Trust me.” 

Harry nodded wordlessly, squeezing Malfoy’s hand gently. He realised that he did trust Malfoy and that something was growing between them. Something he definitely wanted more of.


End file.
